


Maud's Declassified School Survival Guide

by executeGhost (textbookMobster)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Maud just likes to be helpful, implied hicsqueak if you squint but thats it folks im sorry, post s2 shenanigans, sort of a fix-it fic?, the kids will be alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 11:45:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15818238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/textbookMobster/pseuds/executeGhost
Summary: In which our favourite trio starts a guide for junior witches, and Ethel meddles.





	Maud's Declassified School Survival Guide

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, sis, for editing my work even though you don't know the show. To sisterhood. c:

Maud wants to make a guidebook for witches like Mildred, wants to give these wayward witches a measure of solid ground before teaching them to fly. The Witches' Code is Important. It is, in fact, the law. But it doesn't offer advice and reassurances—doesn't elaborate on tradition in layman terms or offer linguistic insights, particularly for young witches just hoping to blend in. Maud remembers the day when she almost lost Mildred's friendship to a forgetting powder, remembers how Ada had spoken of Mildred missing a steady anchor in her life. How sad it would be to lose other witches this way. So of course it's up to Maud to Set Things Right. 

She goes through the proper channels, for once. First she goes to Esme, who has been somewhat of an inspiration despite being gone for half a year. When the girl has nothing but praise for her ideas—"I remember being lost myself a few times when I had to cope with being non-magical"—she goes to Miss Bat, and then to Mr. Rowan-Webb, who bolster her confidence with their nods of approval and words of wisdom. By the time she makes an appointment with Miss Cackle, the headmistress has already heard of her plans for a guidebook for witches, and is more than happy to turn it into a year-end project. 

It's the most brilliant feeling ever. 

She enlists Mildred and Enid immediately. 

She already knows what she'll ask of Mildred. The young witch has a talent for illustrations and illusions, and her experience learning magic for the first time in Cackle's Academy will be invaluable for connecting with their target audience. It's Enid who surprises her. 

Maud wakes up one morning to the sight of piles of paper spilling haphazardly next to her bed, a sheepish Enid, sitting next to them. "They're not all magical," the girl says instantly, picking some of the pamphlets up and offering them to Maud, as if offering an apology. "Some of them are contraband stuff—mostly because people have found them circulating among the Ordinary folk." In a lower voice she whispers, "I'm trying to get Dad to buy us a set of that Harry Potter series too. They say it's dreadfully inaccurate when it comes to performing magic, but there's apparently a lot of similarities too. We think the writer might have come from an old Witch family like Millie's." Which meant that the magic had receded from their line too. Maud wonders if their family had needed to sacrifice something to accomplish something greater. It's frustrating to know that much of their history is still shrouded in mystery. If only witches were better at sharing information, or writing their experiences down. But there's nothing that can be done about the past. And so much left to do for the future.

"This is perfect," she says, pulling Enid into a warm hug. "You guys are the best."

And they are _the best_. 

They tackle this project with the same enthusiasm that they normally reserve for one of their more adventurous projects, working on it every chance that they can spare. They're referencing and cross-referencing like _proper scholars_ , and it is all that Maud can do to contain her glee at the sight of Enid, nose buried in a book for a change. "At least this one's above board this time," Enid says, eyes brimming with mischief. "Feels funny, being all proper-like."

"Feels nice, if you ask me." Mildred sighs into her palm, in the middle of sketching a storyboard for one of their many mini-comics. "Though I almost miss having detentions with HB."

"That can be arranged," Miss Hardbroom drawls, appearing just behind them. She plucks a page from Maud's hands, sneering at its contents. "How utterly juvenile."

"Well, it _is_ for kids, Miss Hardbroom," Maud says, straightening up, steel in her spine.

"Oh, I am well aware." Miss Hardbroom lets the offending parchment fall on their table and huffs. "Aurora Lovelace's _Mistress of Manners,_ chapter five, does a thorough job of explaining proper etiquette when receiving important guests such as the Great Wizard himself. You might find it"—she ignores the high five they exchange—"illuminating."

They do.

They're almost done their first draft when Miss Pentangle, having somehow caught wind of their project, pays them a visit one lazy afternoon. She's smiling from ear to ear, looking much too pleased for someone who hasn't even glanced at their work yet. Still, a visit from Miss Pentangle is a visit, and they love having her around, especially when she treats each and every one of them with exuberance and respect.

Their manuscript—and oh, how lovely to call it thus—is painstakingly handwritten, the marginalia filled with blossoming plant life and elaborate swirls, courtesy of Mildred's steady hands. It begins with an introduction that has plenty of Maud's earnestness and a dash of Enid's humour. Afterwards, it jumps right into the basics of Witching etiquette, illustrated for clarity, with the occasional comment on social blunders that even a seasoned witch might stumble into. As if taking on a life of its own, the manuscript leads its reader down a charming path full of joy and discovery. There are guides on visualization and meditation meant to help the junior witch be more in tune with their powers—to understand that wild, untamed overgrowth flourishing inside them. Control is emphasized, but also the concept of moving with the flow of your power and redirecting it in ways that feel natural for both the witch and her magic. At the end of the manuscript is the appendix—mostly a compilation of useful spells and easy-to-brew potions that are meant to make life simpler for the junior witch just starting school. It's carefully thought out, and shines with all of their best qualities. 

“You know,” she says after reading through their manuscript and asking some cursory questions, “some of my students also come from non-magical families. I know you mean to produce this for your next batch of first years, but have you considered also sending this to other schools?”

She smiles and sits them down, discussing logistics and paper production, discouraging them from their original plan to reproduce their guidebook via copying spells. “There’s no harm in going about this the non-magical way,” she says gently. “Better, I think, if we ask Mildred’s mum for help with the initial printing.”

“It’s the ambient magic, isn’t it?” Maud asks, having already worked out the flaw in their plan. “If we give this to someone untrained in the Craft, they might have a magical accident with it, especially if they practice with the copy around.” 

“Me at that age?” Mildred laughs. “This would definitely have caught on fire by now.” 

Pippa takes the manuscript from Maud and looks at it again a second time, tapping her chin in thought. “You know, Mildred, these illustrations of yours really are quite spot-on. Have you ever considered illustrating your potions ingredients in much the same way?”

She doesn’t have to look up to know that the girls have been struck with another brilliant idea.

* * *

The Ethel-shaped disaster catches no one by surprise.

It starts, as it often does, with an ethically dubious spell. Enid recognizes it easily, having dealt with sabotage spells before. "Does she think we're stupid?" Enid picks up the defaced manuscript, its contents turned into meaningless scribbles.

Maud lifts an eyebrow, faintly amused. "Apparently so. It's almost as if she expects us _not_ to have made copies of everything."

“It’s a little bit more complicated than that,” Mildred says quietly, tucking into herself, looking very much like a kicked puppy. 

The two books sitting on top of her bedside table reveal similar misspellings and grammar errors, as well as crude drawings that weren’t there before. The spell, tied to Mildred’s touch, could render even entire books unreadable.

Maud and Enid share grim expressions that promised retribution. “Don’t worry, Millie. We’ll have it fixed in no time,” Maud says, sitting next to her friend and wrapping an arm around her.

Enid’s smile is sharp and fierce, her eyes alight with hidden schemes. “Yes. We’ll definitely have it fixed.”

If there is anything to say about Ethel, beyond her rudeness and her haughtiness, it is that she is quite predictable. She is a creature of habits, unwilling to change, inflexible to the point of breaking. It's sad, really, how easy she makes things for Maud and Enid.

Maud wants only justice. She finds the evidence among Ethel's usual hiding places and calmly, carefully builds a case. Because Maud is head of their year for a reason. She is thorough where Ethel is careless, self-critical while Ethel is self-assured. But more than that, she _listens_. And she hears all that she needs to know from Ethel's cronies.

Enid, on the other hand, is very much hell-bent on making Ethel pay. She's always had a mean streak; after all, she's been expelled from several schools _for a reason_. But between Maud and Mildred she's grown a little tame. Knows better than to launch herself at every small kerfuffle now. 

However, things are different this time around. This little project of theirs . . . it's the first time Enid feels that she's done some actual good for the school. Sure, they've saved Cackle's Academy a couple of times by now, but it was always out of necessity. On the other hand, creating this guidebook for prospective Witches had always been their choice. There's an immense pride in knowing that she's contributed to this. The fact that it's going to help witches like Mildred? Well, that's just icing on the cake.

It's a pity, really, that Mildred has made her promise to go easy on the poor girl.

So Enid puts a simple tripping hex on her shoes, one that activates only when Ethel's in the Great Hall. She knows better than to try such antics around HB's classroom, volatile potions and all. Besides, she's not interested in cheating others out of a fair grade; she's been on the receiving end of that, and the sheer terror of thinking she might be expelled? Even Enid is not that cruel.

It's no accident though that she's chosen that particular prank, putting Ethel in Mildred's shoes for a change—and what a clever spell it was, to put Ethel _in Mildred's shoes_ , to give her a taste of what it's like to be Mildred. But Ethel has none of Mildred's resilience. She is brittle and bitter, turning inwards at the slightest hurt.

It's a simple tripping hex.

And Ethel breaks.

* * *

"We really must do something about the girl," Ada says to Hecate, after they've resolved things: both Mildred and Ethel, hex-free.

"I am loathe to admit," Hecate says through gritted teeth, "that I have allowed Ethel's interfering to grow unchecked." 

"We all have," Ada says, regret uncoiling in her chest. "Still so young and yet—should I have been more harsh with my students, Hecate? She's certainly done enough academic misconducts to warrant expulsion."

"You and I both know she had immunity because of her mother." Hecate sighs and plays with the ring on her finger—a gift from Pippa. "Though I suppose that's no longer an issue."

"She almost brought the ceiling down on all of us."

"Accidental magic," Hecate says out of habit. She flinches and lifts a hand, palm up, in acquiescence. "Which makes her all the more dangerous.” 

"I want to help her, Hecate."

"I know."

They put Ethel Hallow on probation. It's a quiet affair; only Ethel and her sisters know. "Focus on your education," Ada says firmly, "and you will do just fine. But you must end this little feud of yours with Mildred Hubble. It does everyone more harm than good."

Ethel turns white as a ghost at their words. Trembles with a burning rage that leaves her too hot and uncomfortable. Esme's hand on her shoulder does her no good. Because _everyone loves Esme_. Everyone prefers Esme over her. And Sybil, clutching onto her as if she's afraid Ethel might disappear—somehow, even her touch feels disingenuous. 

But then she remembers what feels like a lifetime ago, Mildred talking to Sybil in quiet and comforting tones, Mildred carrying Nightstar back after braving the Mists of Time with her, and she crumbles. 

She's so angry and jealous that it hurts. Mildred's family has sacrificed twelve generations' worth of magic users to reignite a Founding Stone. And Ethel—ugly, despicable, miserable Ethel—comes from a family of frauds and cheats; even her own mother has resorted to trickery to try and get back at Miss Cackle. She hates it, this sick and terrible feeling festering within her. "Oh, Ethie," she hears Esme murmur and buries her face against her sister's shoulder, letting her tears fall free. She's full to bursting with frustrated, violent energy that she can't help but shake, can't help but hold onto Esme fiercely lest she lose control again. "I am so, so sorry."

They Transfer her back to her room with Esme and Sybil in tow. It's a small mercy, one that she appreciates much later. They curl on Ethel's bed—a little cramped with the three of them, but they make do. "I love you," Sybil says, bold and sweet, and Ethel's heart breaks all over again.

"I don't know how to be good," she confides to them, to the darkness that is her sanctuary. 

"I don't know how to be brave either," Sybil says softly. "Sometimes, you just have to try."

* * *

Kindness is a foreign concept to Ethel. She thinks she'll probably never be kind. Not really. She doesn't trust enough, nor does she really understand what motivates people. "You don't have to feel kind to be kind," she remembers Miss Cackle saying. Trust the old hag to speak in riddles. 

But she tries. Twists her lips in fractured smiles and reigns her temper in. She can't do kind, she thinks, but at least she can do civil. 

And for a while things are fine. She gets back into Felicity's good graces, and Esme hovers over her a little less, relieved that she's finally fitting in. 

But Mildred has always been her undoing, no matter how hard she tries to simply move on. 

She finds the idiot girl in her bedroom just after supper, stroking Nightstar's fine black fur while she waited presumably for Ethel to return. "Can I help you with anything?" Ethel asks, clutching the door handle as if a lifeline.

"I just—wanted to apologize," Mildred says and it strikes Ethel that she hasn't met Mildred's gaze in a long time. "I know we're not friends," she continues hurriedly. "Only, you've been avoiding me lately and pretending I don't exist. I"—she flushes pink underneath Ethel's disbelieving stare—"I guess I miss having you around?"

"What kind of idiot misses being pushed around and bullied?" Ethel slumps on her bed next to Mildred. "Goddess, it's almost as if you like me."

Mildred shrugs and gives Ethel a lopsided smile. "I guess I just miss having you as a rival, is all."

Ethel lifts her chin and sneers, forgetting herself. "Bold of you to assume that I consider you my rival."

Gently, Mildred deposits Nightstar into Ethel's arms and catches her gaze, dark brown eyes shining with anticipation. "Guess, I'll just make you reconsider." 

Ethel laughs and feels light for the first time in weeks, finds footing on stable ground at last. "You're on, Mildred Hubble."

She contributes to their little guidebook in the end. Offers Mildred some tips and tricks on revisions and exam-taking. “Just levelling the playing field, you understand,” she sneers when prompted. Mildred thinks it’s nice, seeing a little of her fire back.

“Don’t go easy on me now, Ethel Hallow.”

“Please. When have I ever?”

**Author's Note:**

> Cut content right [here](https://executeghost.tumblr.com/post/177459182624/youre-incorrigible-hecate-tells-pippa-much).


End file.
